Point and Shoot
by MadnessJones
Summary: G1: Over the years the Reflector triplets have had three goals in life: Spy on Autobots, stay out of other Decepticons' way, and don't die. Should be simple enough, right? No pairings.
1. Megatron

_Author's Notes: This fic is the closest to improv I'm ever going to get. Each chapter will involve either a specific Decepticon or a specific Autobot, and the characters chosen will be decided by reviewer suggestions. This chapter of course is Megatron's chapter since he should be first :)_

 _I'll just tell you, I've wanted to do a Reflector fic ever since I wrote my very first Transformers story on this site, but it took me until last October to even think of a good angle for a story about them. Hopefully this will turn out being a good one since I waited so long to do it right. Sadly there are still Transformers I can't think of a unique story for (Why must Tracks be so hard to write?), but this fic shows overcoming mental blocks is possible so yay! Please favorite, follow, and review to see more, and I hope you guys have a great week :)_

* * *

Chapter 1

Megatron

The city of Nuon fell before the might of the Decepticons like a stack of blocks fall before a rambunctious sparkling. Everything was in ruins, and the empties were all scurrying to find hiding places before the might of the seeker armada caught up with them and tore them apart. It was a time of famine, fear, and uncertainty.

Standing in the window of an abandoned apartment building was a small minibot with keen optics. He was white, blue and green, and had a clear round zircon lense in the center of his chest. He recorded the destruction on his hard drive, and he looked to the future with dread. This small mech's name was Viewfinder.

[Are they going to find us, Viewfinder?] Viewfinder's brother Spectro asked over the bond.

[Not if I can help it,] Viewfinder replied grimly before leaving his post at the window.

[You _can't_ help it,] Spyglass pointed out pessimistically from his place in the corner of the room; never stopping his task of digging through a waste canister.

The three brothers, Viewfinder Spectro and Spyglass, always spoke to each other over their spark bond. Speaking to others aloud was unnecessary since they were merely empties that no one cared about. When they were forced to speak to others, the triplets had a habit of speaking in unison since they could never figure out which one of them was being addressed. Most mechs found it annoying and therefore left them alone to collect garbage and any spare energon they could find.

The three minibots, a set of combining split spark triplets, were supposed to only be one mech when they were sparked, but something went wrong. For whatever reason they separated when leaving Vector Sigma, and they became three parts of what should have been a single being. They forever mingled in their spark bond; their processors always linked. They had no privacy, but they needed none from each other, because they were practically the same mech.

Often the triplets would get into arguments about who was the original and who were the clones. Viewfinder insisted that since he was the only one with a lense that he must be the original. Spectro and Spyglass would often try to list their various skills and unique parts to prove they were the original. In the end they never agreed, and in the end it never really mattered. With the world going to the pit arguing simply gave them something to do.

As Viewfinder pondered the Decepticon pillaging and destruction, the others could feel that he was forming an idea.

[Please tell me it involves energon!] Spectro whined, [We haven't refueled in five orns.]

[It actually involves the most valuable thing in the world,] Viewfinder said conspiratorially, [Decepticons value two thing: strength and information. We do not have strength, so we must find information so useful that the Decepticons will have to accept us. If we can join the Decepticons, then they will have no reason to want to kill us. Information is our ticket to survival.]

[Hey, I heard Megatron and his posse are in Nuon with the raiding party!] Spectro added; his enthusiasm growing as hope entered their sparks, [Isn't one of the top Decepticons a master spy?]

[You are referring to Soundwave,] Spyglass supplemented, [Yes, which means Megatron already knows everything. There's no way three pieces of gutter scrap like us will ever get into the Decepticons. They hate minibots. They see us as servants at best and target practice at worst. Whatever we find will never be good enough to get into the good graces of the fiercest mech alive. We might as well dig a hole and hope no one sees us.]

[I think they'll notice a freshly dug hole,] Spectro snarked playfully, [I say let's do it! We just need to combine into Reflector and hide ourselves someplace real good!]

Viewfinder smiled at Spectro's eagerness. He understood why Spyglass was cautious about getting too close to such violent mechs as the Decepticons, but there was no way they could survive on their own anymore; especially now that their home city-state was trashed. No, if they were to survive the Decepticons, then they would have to _become_ the Decepticons.

* * *

Getting into the former town hall was a rather daunting task. The Reflectors hid behind recycling cubes, shimmied around the building, and were nearly caught twice when they got too close to landing seekers. Fortunately though they were never caught, and now a tiny camera sat unassumingly perched on a flat light fixture on the ceiling. At one time this fixture had held a chandelier, but ever since the sacking of the town hall anything that had once been beautiful or valuable was gone.

Reflector waited patiently for someone, anyone, to come in and give them something they could use to curry favor with the Decepticons. They got their wish 4 joors later when a small mech snuck inside the building looking for all the world like a hunted animal as he wrung his servos nervously. A few breems later he was followed by a yellow and brown jeep-former that Reflector recognized as Swindle; a Decepticon profiteer that sold the treasures he looted to richer mechs. The little camera didn't have to be told to keep silent as it/they watched the scene below them unfold.

"Hey kid, I see you got here in one piece," Swindle laughed as he spoke to the turquoise colored car-former.

" _Shh_! Not so loud!" The other mech hissed quietly, "I don't want anyone else to hear us."

"Sure, sure. I get it," Swindle replied easily, "Now, from what I understand you want a ticket off Cybertron before the goin' gets rough, eh?"

"You've got to help me! I don't want to die!" The mech choked out pitifully, "Look at what's happened to Nuon! The Autobots can't stop Megatron, and soon he'll come for Kalis! My home will perish and there's nothing anyone can do! I need to get out of here, please!"

"Calm down, Autobutt," Swindle smirked casually, "You got my credits?"

"Right here," The other mech replied hastily as he shoved a data pad in Swindle's servos, "How far will this get me?"

"Well, when I factor in the hazard pay the rush delivery service and the contract fee..." Swindle pretended to calculate the distance in his processor as he touched his chin with a digit, "I'd say this should get you as far the New Stranix colony. Here's your flight pass. Blast Off will be waitin' for you at the old drive-thru theater on the north end of town. Be there in three joors or he'll leave without you."

"Why do I get the feeling New Stranix was where Blast Off was going anyway?" The mech asked skeptically.

"Hey, if you don't like New Stranix you can always stay here," Swindle shrugged indifferently.

"No, no! It's fine! Thank you, Swindle," The mech exclaimed desperately, "I'm just glad there are Decepticons out there that are willing to help Autobots."

"Yeah, just don't spread it around," Swindle warned him, "What I'm doin' is treason, so you have to keep quiet. You got me?"

"Of course, thank you," The Autobot bowed slightly to Swindle before rushing out of the lobby with his ticket to freedom.

As Swindle left the meeting place Reflector couldn't believe their luck. They had caught a traitor! This information could be the key to their salvation!

[Viewfinder,] Spectro called out through the bond despite their still being combined, [Maybe we shouldn't go to Megatron with this.]

[What are you talking about? This is our chance!] Viewfinder insisted.

[But what if Swindle is our chance?] Spectro pointed out, [We trade him our evidence in exchange for a ride away from the war. We have nothing against the Autobots. Why not just leave?]

[Even if we leave we'll still be destitute,] Spyglass pointed out, [Viewfinder is right to do it this way, Spectro. We're dead if we don't get a steady source of energon soon. If the Decepticons take us in then we'll get energon every day. We _need_ this.]

[What about the Autobots?] Spectro asked, [Maybe we could join them.]

[They don't have energon stored up like the Decepticons do,] Viewfinder explained to him, [Besides, if Autobots are abandoning their cause then they've already lost. This recording will ensure our future. We're going ahead with the plan.]

The Reflectors disengaged then and landed one by one on the floor of the empty room. If they were to get their evidence to Megatron then they needed to hurry.

* * *

Megatron sat on his throne in Darkmount hearing out his officers' latest battle strategies and tending to any business that could not be delegated to anyone beneath him (Starscream). So far the Decepticons had taken over Polyhex, Kaon, Vos, Nuon, Praxus, and Simfur. Their next targets were Kalis, the Sea of Rust, Iacon, Altihex, and Helex. Other than Iacon it didn't seem that their other targets had any real defenses to speak of. Foolish council, believing no one would gather the support and the might to challenge them. Megatron couldn't help the bitter grin that crossed his face plate at the thought.

Megatron was conferring with Soundwave and Shockwave about triple changer recruitment and weapons distribution when he heard a commotion outside the throne room. A moment later the Rainmaker seekers came in; each carrying a dirty little minibot.

"What is the _meaning_ of this!?" Megatron bellowed; causing the minibots to flinch in their captors' grasps, "We are in a meeting! How dare you disturb me without so much as a comm signal?"

"Forgive us, my lord," Acid Storm replied formally, "We captured these nuisances on the Polyhex-Nuon border, and they claim that they have important information regarding a crime committed against you. What shall we do with them, Lord Megatron?"

The Reflectors watched in dread as Megatron stood up from his throne and approached them; his tall imposing stature and large fusion cannon making them reconsider this endeavor. It seemed to have a similar effect on the seekers as they each took one cautious step away from the warlord.

"You!" Megatron shouted as he pointed to Viewfinder, "Speak!"

"Um...uh..." Viewfinder was shaking, and was having trouble finding his voice before such a menacing figure, but after a few astro-seconds he finally said, "Swindle and Blast Off, two of your Decepticon soldiers, have been aiding Autobots for profit, sir."

The room was eerily quiet for a moment as Megatron simply stared down at the quivering wretch, but then...

"You really expect me to believe that?" Megatron growled softly, "What proof do you have of this treachery?"

"W-We have a t-tape of their meeting, my lord," Viewfinder stammered, "If we may combine, we'll show you."

"Combine?" Megatron asked in mild surprise, "I didn't realize minibots could form combiners."

"We're no Devastator, sir," Viewfinder replied humbly as he hung his helm to avoid optic contact, "We merely transform into a camera and listening device. Permission to play the tape, sir?"

"Very well, but if this is fabricated you will pay for it with your sparks," Megatron warned them.

The seekers put down the bedraggled minibots, and they combined into their camera form. A few barely contained snickers could be heard from the crowd as the tiny thing sat innocently on the floor. Decepticons never accepted minibots into their ranks because Megatron demanded a powerful army, so to see one as pathetic looking as them in the throne room was a real novelty to the Decepticons.

They began to play the audio, and the mirth died down as the crowd realized the Reflectors were telling the truth about Swindle and Blast Off. Megatron's brow ridge creased in anger as he thought about those two betraying him and helping his enemies escape. If they could do that, then what was stopping them from selling weapons to the Autobots, or even defecting if the Decepticons no longer suited them? This outrage could not stand!

"Rainmakers, find Swindle and Blast Off! I want their sparks removed and placed in permanent containment!" Megatron ordered furiously, "A conscious death is far more effective a punishment than mere termination. _Go_!"

The seekers ran out of the room to comply with the wishes of their master, nearly bending their wings on the door frame, and Reflector separated into their three parts. They dared to look up nervously at Megatron, and Megatron scowled back down at them.

"You empties obviously want something for this information," Megatron mused, "Let me guess, you want high grade don't you? Something to forget your troubles as you lay in the street like the scrap piles you are."

"N-No sir," All three replied before Viewfinder expressed over the bond that he should so all the talking, "Lord Megatron, sir, we believe you are the rightful ruler of Cybertron, and we would like nothing more than to join your forces as spies. If you accept us, we promise to give you loyalty, respect, and hard work. No job is too lowly for us, Lord Megatron. May we join your ranks?"

Roars of laughter followed their statement after the Decepticons heard their words. They were minibots, and they were empties. There was no way Megatron would let them in, and the very idea made a few 'Cons laugh until they leaked transmission fluid.

"Report to the wash racks," Megatron abruptly ordered; causing all laughter to cease immediately, "You smell of the gutters. When you get out report to Thundercracker for your orientation. Dismissed."

No one understood what just happened, but no one was willing to question him. Megatron had let the Reflectors in? Just like that? The three minibots feared it was too good to be true. Then again, you didn't ask your victim to shower before you murdered them, so maybe he was serious. The Reflectors left the room with as much dignity as they could manage feeling like they had just won a grand prize. This was the beginning of a life with purpose and energon.


	2. Bluestreak

_Author's Notes: Sorry I took so long to get back to this fic. I actually started this chapter right away, but then didn't get a chance to finish it until now. This chapter is for **Heart of The Demons** who suggested a Bluestreak chapter. Chapter 3 has already been suggested, but if you have a character you really want to see Reflector interact with let me know in your review :)_

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Chapter 2

Bluestreak

The Reflectors didn't get the job they thought they would get when they approached Megatron. They had assumed proving their spy skills meant they would become spies and work under Soundwave. Instead they were the whipping boys for pretty much every Decepticon in whatever unit they found themselves in.

Whatever was asked of them they did in order to stay alive. If they were told to test a weapon they tested it, which often resulted in injuries. If they were told to attack an Autobot resistance they attacked, which often resulted in more injuries. If they were told to spy on fellow Decepticons they did it, which often resulted in being blackmailed about spying on their fellow Decepticons. In short, they were frequently injured but still alive.

Three vorns had passed since they first joined the Decepticons, and in that time they had learned quite a bit. They learned that the Decepticons didn't care about them and would terminate any mech or femme that disobeyed superiors. They also learned the Autobots did care about their minibots, but going back for them often resulted in more deaths. It was difficult for Reflector to know which way was best.

This vorn found them stationed on the border between Iacon and Polyhex. Their home city-state of Nuon was on the other side of Polyhex, which is where they would've rather been, instead of looking at the abandoned towers of Iacon in the distance while they found themselves guarding an electrified border fence. For some reason the combination of barriers and decay was just depressing to the hapless minibot combiner team.

Every orn it was exactly the same. On the Decepticon side was the Reflectors guarding their side of the fence, and not too far away on the Autobot side of the fence were two low ranking 'Bots guarding their side. Viewfinder, Spyglass, and Spectro had to stare those Autobots in the optic every orn; each one silently warning the other that they would never get through them.

Most orns no one attempted to cross the border. Any mech would be a fool to even try. That meant the Reflectors had a lot of time to kill, and so did the Autobots. The Reflectors did what they always did when they were bored: they watched others around them to observe their behavior.

They noticed that one of the mechs was a Praxian and the other one was really fancy looking. The second guy was most likely an Iaconian native, and possibly an aristocrat. Border guard seemed an odd choice for someone with the funds to leave this doomed planet. The Praxian likely had a story too, since like Nuon Praxus had also been pillaged and burned to the ground by Decepticons.

The Praxian seemed to do all the talking. For joors the Praxian's voice could be vaguely heard on the Decepticon side of the fence, though the Reflectors rarely knew what he was talking about with the noble. The noble was quiet and would just patiently listen to the Praxian speak. Every orn the Praxian would drown out the quiet of the barren landscape, and the noble and Reflector would just drink in the noise and let him prattle on.

For a quarter vorn this went on uninterrupted. Every now and then someone would have to stop a runner or a flier from crossing the border. Usually neither side had to shoot, and most days were filled with nothing but boredom sprinkled with Praxian prattle. It wasn't a glamorous job, but the triplets liked it because it was safer than their previous assignments.

One orn however something changed. The Reflectors onlined from their recharge, grabbed their rations, and set off to the border fence to stand sentry as always. When they got there, however, it was quiet. _Eerily_ quiet.

They walked until they found the spot where the Autobots usually stood guard, and they saw that the Praxian was alone. The noble was gone. The noble's golden optics usually bored into their sparks, but today...nothing. Everything was quiet and still, and the Praxian looked upset. He didn't look at the Reflectors, he never did, but they looked at him with just as much intensity as usual.

[Where did the blue and white mech go?] Spectro asked over the bond.

[Maybe he got terminated,] Spyglass posited.

[Could be, or he could've just been transferred,] Viewfinder guessed.

[Should we do something?] Spectro asked the others.

[About the _Autobot_?] Viewfinder scoffed, [He's our enemy. We are Decepticons, and Decepticons do not comfort weakness. We exploit weakness.]

[But we don't really have anything against them,] Spectro pointed out, [We just like to refuel and recharge with a roof over our helms. Come on brothers, we've stared at this mech and listened to him speak for 20 stellar cycles. I could probably draw this guy from memory! We can't just leave him like this.]

[But we're not allowed to cross the border fence,] Spyglass retorted, [That's kind of our entire job! We can't break the rules we enforce. That's treason.]

[I agree with Spyglass,] Viewfinder said in a subdued tone which was felt rather than heard, [However, maybe we can do something to cheer up the Praxian without having to cross the border.]

[Yay! My suggestion was taken!] Spectro celebrated, while the other two sent him waves of annoyance through the bond, [So, what's the plan?]

Viewfinder thought about it, and after a few breems felt he had a solution. He told his plan to his brothers over the bond, and they sent him waves of joy; knowing this was a great idea.

* * *

Bluestreak was waiting for Mirage to return. They had received a distress signal on the other side of the border that one of their scouts had been captured, and Mirage had volunteered for the risky assignment of crossing the border to retrieve her. His invisibility kept him from the sight of most mechs, but Bluestreak still couldn't help but worry about his friend. After all, they had spent 25 stellar cycles at this post.

His train of thought was interrupted when he heard something that sounded like a small engine coming right toward him. Bluestreak readied his rifle, nervous at what might be headed his way, and found the source of the noise after a tense breem of waiting.

It was a small aerial drone. It kind of reminded Bluestreak of Roller, but this one had a helicopter's rotor system. Hm, maybe he should name it Rotor instead of Roller? _Focus, Bluestreak_! That thing came from the Polyhexian side of the border!

Bluestreak aimed his rifle to shoot down the Decepticon drone, but then noticed that the drone didn't attack him. Instead it landed a few mechano-meters away from him. Bluestreak was afraid of what that might mean, but his curiosity overcame his fear and he carefully stepped toward the now motionless object.

He tapped the drone with the tip of his gun and jumped back with an undignified squeak when a small metallic object dropped from the bottom of the device. Once his systems were calm enough he reached for the object, and saw it was an engraved card.

"What the-?" Bluestreak asked himself in shock.

Very curious now, Bluestreak dusted off the shiny surface and read the Cybertronian script that had been carefully engraved on the sheet of metal.

 _Dear Autobot,_

 _Sorry about what happened to Praxus. We understand your pain. We lost Nuon, and while it wasn't as well known as Praxus it was still a massacre. Sorry also about your comrade. You are our favorite enemy. Love, Reflector_ ^_^

Bluestreak didn't know what to think about this. He didn't know which of the three guards on the border was Reflector. Frankly they all looked the same to him, though he would never say that out loud. It might offend them.

Now that Bluestreak thought about it, these Decepticons never bothered the Autobot patrols or even hurled curses at them from the other side of the fence. They just minded their own business and left everyone alone. Bluestreak didn't know much about Nuon except that several ancient artifacts were destroyed by the Decepticons and that the place was crawling with empties now.

He also realized for the first time looking at the border guards that they were not only identical, but also minibots. Decepticons _never_ showed mercy to minibots. Bluestreak wondered what the story was behind that. If they were only border guards how many special skills could they actually have?

Mind made up, Bluestreak decided that he had to go talk to them. After all, they were taking the first step to try to be on friendly terms. It was only fair he give them a chance.

Bluestreak walked up to the fence, and the Decepticon minibots instantly shrunk back as if expecting to be shot or beaten. Bluestreak held up his servos to show he wasn't holding his weapon and slowly approached the Decepticons.

"Hey guys, my designation is Bluestreak," Bluestreak began in a friendly yet strained tone of voice, "What are your names if I may ask?"

" _Reflector_ ," All three 'Cons replied in unison.

"Oh, so you're all named Reflector?" Bluestreak replied in confusion, "Did your creators run out of names?"

" _It is our combined form_ ," They once again answered in unison, and it was starting to weird Bluestreak out, " _We are Reflector. We are sorry for your loss_."

"Um..." Bluestreak wondered if he should tell them about the mission or not. Deciding that was a terrible idea he settled for saying, "Mirage isn't dead. He's just missing in action. He might return soon."

The Reflector's seemed at a loss for what to say next. They weren't used to talking out loud for long periods of time or interacting with anyone besides each other. They didn't have to worry about it for long, however, as Bluestreak started talking once again.

"I've never met friendly Decepticons before," Bluestreak said in a jovial manner, "I'm not trying to insult you or anything though. I mean, I'm sure you have your reasons for joining the Decepticons. I just don't know why that would be. I mean, when Praxus fell I joined the Autobots right away because they didn't hurt me, but the Decepticons hurt Nuon. Hey, what was Nuon like? Was it pretty? Praxus was a pretty town with lots of shops and lights and happy families. Nuon must'be been an old city. I heard there were artifacts there that date all the way back to the heyday of the days of Alpha Trion. I've never met Alpha Trion, but I hear he's really smart. I know a lot of smart people..."

Bluestreak chatted on and on about everything that came to his processor with little to no input from the Reflector triplets. It was a little tiring, but then again it was nice to be around someone that didn't want to hurt them. Almost everyone else in their faction wanted to hurt them, and yet it was the Autobot that offered them a normal conversation and a nonthreatening smile. It was a lot to take in.

Meanwhile, Mirage and Arcee cut the border fence and walked right on past it and back into Iacon territory without anyone noticing. Bluestreak did a very good job of keeping the Reflectors busy while Mirage did his job and got Arcee to a medic. The best part? Bluestreak didn't even realize he was helping.


	3. Huffer

_Author's Notes: This chapter is for **Melral CT-3718** , who suggested Huffer for a chapter of this fic. I'm pretty sure it was a joke entry, but I still wrote it because...I don't know why. I guess the idea just seemed cool. Now, something I probably should've mentioned before, since this fic is a series of Reflector-themed oneshots it will not follow a linear timeline. Some chapters take place on Cybertron, and others take place on earth. There is no order to it. I hope you guys enjoy this installment of "Point and Shoot" :)_

* * *

Chapter 3

Huffer

The Reflectors had been spying on the Autobots for more vorns than they could count. Back on Cybertron they spied on the lower sectors while Soundwave spied on the Prime's crew. Now that they were on earth they would spy when none of the cassette minions were willing to go to the downed Autobot ship; the Ark.

Viewfinder always looked at the files first to see who their targets would be. Sometimes they would turn into their camera mode and take photos of a single Autobot, but other times they would split up and each record audio in a sector that they agreed on. Either way they relished in being allowed to spy, because it meant they didn't have to do any grunt work or work with the other 'Cons.

On this particular day they were splitting up. Viewfinder would take the most dangerous job of spying on the control room where they kept Teletraan 1, Spectro would search for an empty office and copy and files on the computers, and Spyglass would spy on the rec room to see if he could overhear conversations.

With their plan in motion, they separated through the halls. The cassettes usually traveled along the air vents, but the Reflector triplets knew their movements would sound amplified from that kind of space, so they simply scurried around in the hallways and hid whenever they thought anyone was onto them.

Viewfinder's mission was being hampered by the fact that there was a very large crowd of Autobots using Teletraan 1. It looked like they were watching...what was that? There were humans on the screen, but it didn't look like a news broadcast. In fact, it looked staged. _Wait_ , this was just a TV show, wasn't it?

A quick look through the database revealed to Viewfinder that it was a soap opera known as "As The Kitchen Sinks".

 _Seriously, the Autobots waste their time with this?_ Viewfinder thought with distaste. _Are we Decepticons, who conquered Cybertron, of so little threat to you that you can now lounge around and watch TV? What is_ wrong _with you people?_

As Spectro sifted through Prowl's files he could feel Viewfinder's frustration. He didn't know what was wrong, but it didn't feel like danger, so Spectro sent laughter over the bond. Hey, whatever it was, it was probably funny, right?

Spyglass was behind an energon dispenser in the rec room, and he could feel his brothers exchanging sour feelings over the bond. They probably got into a fight over something stupid. Spyglass decided it was better to not get involved.

He finally saw that an Autobot was coming to sit down near his hiding place. He just needed to record whatever conversation was had, and then he could leave. When he peered around the corner to see who was sitting there, however, he spark sank. Why did it have to be _him_?

Huffer sat down and sighed as he looked listlessly into his cube of glowing purple energon. Spyglass cursed his rotten luck. Why did his nearest target have to be sitting alone, and why did it have to be _Huffer_?

There was once a time when Spyglass thought nothing of any of the Autobots, and never really noticed Huffer at all. Sure, he was one of Optimus Prime's go-to mechs, but beyond that he was just another minibot. That was on Cybertron, but on earth things began to change.

One thing Spyglass and the other Reflectors loved about spying on Autobots is that they got to know them on a level that no other Decepticon could hope to match. They learned their personalities, their likes and dislikes, and how they strategized. Cybertronians, being nearly ageless creatures, didn't really change much. Starscream was a jerk today, so he will be a jerk tomorrow. Megatron lusted for power today, so he will lust for power tomorrow. History was slower on Cybertron, and mechs and femmes didn't learn their lessons quickly. The only thing that could change the landscape of Cybertron was the loss of a Cybertronian.

On earth the Reflectors expected the same, and for the most part they weren't disappointed. Jazz still loved music. Bluestreak still loved to talk. Optimus Prime still believed he was fighting for a righteous cause. Most of the mechs were the same. Huffer, however, was not.

Huffer had been a reliable and jovial face among the crew when he lived on Cybertron. When the Reflectors spied on him they rarely got anything useful, but it was vaguely interesting to observe him as he worked on a construction project or shot the breeze with his fellow minibots. He was a mech that had known Optimus Prime since before Alpha Trion had changed the Autobot leader into his current form, and he was mostly content to work and not much else.

Now though, Spyglass once again had to watch Huffer as the life slowly drained out of him. Most of the Cybertronians were homesick, but Huffer was actually depressed. He didn't do the activities he once enjoyed, he rarely talked to anyone during his breaks, and he constantly bemoaned how hopeless their situation was. Huffer seemed to like the humans okay, but it wasn't enough to make him not be sad.

Spyglass kind of understood where he was coming from. Out of all the Reflectors he was the most pessimistic. Well, Spyglass like to think of it as realistic, but Viewfinder and Spectro disagreed. Spectro was too eager to see what was right in front of his face, and while Viewfinder was smart he also felt he had to be strong for the rest of the team. Spyglass held no such lofty goals.

No one was sitting next to Huffer today. That was actually kind of odd. Gears usually sat near Huffer, or else one of the more tolerant minibots like Beachcomber or Bumblebee. Hm, Beachcomber...how did _that_ guy get into the army anyway?

Huffer sighed again and slowly lifted the cube up to his glossa to drink his fuel. It seemed like it took a lot out of him just to do that. This was torture for Spyglass. He couldn't go over there, he couldn't sit with Huffer, and he couldn't say anything. All he could do was watch the poor slob not even bother to pretend to be okay.

Spyglass stayed there for several minutes pensively recording the nothing in the air when he got a signal through the bond.

[Hey guys!] Spectro shouted happily over the bond, [I got it! I got the goods! We can go back to base and have Soundwave transcribe this coding from Prowl's computer!]

[Great, I'll meet you there in 15 minutes,] Viewfinder replied.

[15 minutes? Why not now?] Spectro inquired anxiously.

[Shh! Dennis is about to propose to Jessica's evil twin sister, but he thinks it's Jessica, and she'll inherit his vast fortune!] Viewfinder tried to explain, though he only left his brothers even more clueless.

The other two Reflectors sent questioning waves over the bond, but Viewfinder shooed them away. He had to see how the show ended.

Spyglass sighed quietly and scooted around the dark corners of the rec room (hard to do in such a well lit area), sparing only one more glance at Huffer. He still hadn't really done anything besides lazily sip his energon and slump in his seat.

* * *

Spectro and Spyglass got to the rendezvous point first, and it took a full 25 minutes longer for Viewfinder to show up.

[Hey, Viewfinder! I got the files!] Spectro shouted joyfully over the bond so as not to make noise.

[Yeah, well I learned about a mind control device known as the _soap opera_ ,] Viewfinder bragged in reply.

[Whatever, can we just _go_ now?] Spyglass asked petulantly, [The last time I got so little accomplished I was in stasis lock.]

The three Reflectors nodded to each other and started to leave the Ark. Before they could get out of the parking garage, however, they were spotted by the last person they would've suspected: one of the humans.

They ran into one of those hard hat fellows. They forgot his name, but he was the older one. He yelled that there were Decepticons, and Viewfinder knocked him out of the way so they could make a run for it. Before they could get anywhere though, Wheeljack drove in from outside and transformed.

They had no time to react as Wheeljack grabbed Spectro and held him by his arms and legs with both hands. Viewfinder and Spyglass could've left him, but he was the one with the files. Besides, without him they would never combine again.

" _Don't hurt him_ ," Viewfinder and Spyglass said in unison, " _We surrender_."

Wheeljack took the computer file from Spectro, which caused the little minicon to feel utterly defeated. He sagged in Wheeljack's grip before he was put down to stand next to his brothers. Together they followed Wheeljack without a word, knowing they would be shot down if they tried to escape.

* * *

The Reflectors sat in the brig and wondered if Megatron would even bother bargaining for their release. Maybe the Autobots would finally kill them, or maybe they would ask for something small enough that Megatron would have mercy and bring them back to the Nemesis. For whatever reason Megatron liked them. Well, _liked_ was the wrong word. Tolerated was a better word for it.

The Reflector triplets had been allowed to stay together since their combined form was useless for escape attempts. They were grateful they could at least see each other and defend each other if necessary, but they still didn't talk. They didn't need to. Feeling each other over the spark bond was enough.

After 10 minutes of being left alone in their cell they heard the door swoosh open. It was the first guard on shift. Spyglass moaned softly when he saw who it was...Huffer again. It seemed like he couldn't get away from this guy today.

Huffer sat at the terminal where he was supposed to monitor the cell and sighed with his head in his servo. _Oh great_ , Spyglass thought, _now I get to watch him be miserable for even longer!_

After 5 minutes Spyglass was already tired of watching this guy do nothing, and judging from Huffer's dour expression the feeling was mutual. One of them needed to do something to lighten this pall in the air, and if Huffer wasn't going to make the first move to start a conversation...

"Hey Autobot!" Spyglass called out, and his brothers looked at him in shock.

[What are you _doing_!?] Spectro asked frantically over the bond.

"What do you want, Decepticreep?" Huffer asked derisively.

"Uh...Uh..." Spyglass tried to think, but it was so hard with his brothers sending him so many signals over the bond, "Uh...Earth sure does stink, huh? I don't know how you stand it!"

[ _What the frag are you doing!?_ ] Both brothers shouted over the bond.

"Yeah, me neither," Huffer admitted, both surprising and encouraging Spyglass, "There's dirt everywhere, it's either too hot or too cold, and humans refuel their cars through the aft port hole! The first time I drove up to a service station, I thought I was bein' hit on! Then came the gasoline...I still cringe when I think about it."

"Eww," Spyglass commented, "I'm glad I don't transform into a car or truck."

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen any of you transform by yourselves," Huffer realized as he touched a digit to his chin, "What do you turn into when you're by yourself?"

"We don't," Spyglass replied ruefully, "Alone we are merely non-transforming mechs, but together we are Reflector."

"So you're handicapped without each other?" Huffer inquired curiously, "Huh. Weird. I don't think I could handle dependin' on another mech that much. Bein' a combiner sounds rough."

"It is for us," Spyglass replied with a shrug, "But we get by. So, you think Megatron will bargain for us, or are we going to die?"

"Prime says he won't have you killed," Huffer informed them, earning sighs of relief from the three minicons, "But I don't know what's gonna happen to you. We're hopin' to get use of the space bridge out of this little trade. I hope they'll let me go with them if we get the use of it, but I'm not holdin' my intakes. If it's a mission they'll probably want more powerful 'Bots on the team. *sigh* Life can be a load of scrap sometimes, I guess."

Huffer then went back and sat down, and the Reflectors were left to ponder over their situation. They weren't going to die, and if Megatron let the Autobots use the space bridge then they could go home. It was an uncertain fate, but at least it was a hopeful sort of uncertainty.

* * *

It was seven hours later when Optimus Prime came into the room to check on the prisoners. This was an intimidating moment for the triplets. Sure, they spied on Prime all the time, but to have such a powerful Autobot looking right at them and being trapped and unable to get away was too much for the little 'Cons to handle. They were sure he was going to beat them the way Megatron sometimes did, only worse because they wouldn't be useful to Prime later.

"Reflector," Prime addressed them collectively, and they dared not look away from him, "Megatron has agreed to a trade; your safe return in exchange for use of the space bridge. You will be escorted to a neutral location by Jazz and Smokescreen. Do not attempt to attack us or we will be forced to keep you here indefinitely."

"Yes, Prime," Viewfinder agreed as stoically as he could manage.

Prime turned off the energy bars and clearly expected the Reflectors to step out of the cell and follow him. Viewfinder and Spectro hurried to comply, but for some reason Spyglass wasn't moving.

" _Hey, hurry up!_ " The other two Reflectors called out without using his name. They kept their names private to confuse the enemy and remain somewhat anonymous, " _The Prime said we gotta get moving!_ "

"Prime, I will only leave this place on one condition," Spyglass said firmly, earning a raised optic ridge from the Prime and looks of shock from his brothers.

"Oh, and what condition is that?" Optimus asked; humoring the Decepticon for the moment to see where this was going.

"You have to allow Autobot Huffer to go to Cybertron with whatever team you send through the space bridge," Spyglass replied insistently.

"I see...and why Huffer?" Optimus asked in a careful neutral tone of voice; not wanting to sound too intimidating nor too lenient.

"Huffer is homesick, and I...please don't tell anyone I ever said this, but I feel bad for him," Spyglass confessed sheepishly, "I know how it feels to not be able to go home. You're his friend. You should want what is best for him. Let him go back to Cybertron, just for a cycle or two. Do that, and I'll leave."

Of course Spyglass meant the phrase not be able to go home two different ways. Like Huffer, Spyglass was trapped on earth, but that wasn't where the hurt in his spark came from. It came from Nuon, the city that was never fully rebuilt and that Spyglass and his brothers would likely never see again. Nuon might've been a dump, but it was still home.

Optimus hummed as he pondered what Reflector had just said to him. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he nodded and said "You are right. Huffer does need some time off earth and back on our home planet. I am grateful to see there is still a semblance of conscience in the Decepticon ranks. Maybe someday with mechs like you out there this war will one day be nothing more than a bad memory and we will be unified once again."

Spyglass knew indoctrination into a single ideology was important to Prime. On some level it kind of made him sick, but on another level he was surprised at just how candid the Prime was in this moment. He was so used to Megatron's bluster and Starscream's scheming that he didn't quite know how to handle a big and powerful mech actually having a normal conversation with him. Spyglass hated thinking of the Autobots as anything other than enemies since it was dangerous to do so, but the Prime actually seemed...kind.

Either way though, Spyglass felt good, and his brothers felt happy for him. He had done something good for another mech, and with all the evil they were asked to do he often forgot how it felt to help others and think about something besides their own survival. He wondered if Huffer would ever know what he did. He knew Huffer would never know his name, and that was fine with him. He and his brothers had lived in the shadows for too long to feel comfortable anywhere else.


	4. Trailbreaker

_Author's Notes: This chapter's featured character was a request from **Impressionsguy**. Honestly it took me a while to even think of a storyline for Trailbreaker that felt natural for the story, but I think I came up with something good here. At the very least it was fun to write. Chapters 5 and 6 will feature Decepticons that have been requested, and if any of you have a character request for this fic let me know :)_

 _Also: I have a poll on my profile page to let the readers decide which storyline will be the subject of my 50th Transformers fanfic. Go to the poll if you want a say on which idea seems like the best for this milestone, and thank you all for reading and keeping me motivated to continue :)_

* * *

Chapter 4

Trailbreaker

When Megatron received the comm from Reflector with their latest report he was surprised to say the least. As the Nemesis rose from the ocean to welcome the triplets home he had to wonder how they had done it. According to the report, not only did Reflector break protocol by fighting instead of observing, but they had managed to capture the most important Autobot to Prime's cause.

"I can't believe those little creeps managed to capture Prowl," Thundercracker commented from his post in the control room, "He's got the best battle computer on Cybertron installed in his processor. _No way_ could they sneak up on him."

"Who says it was Prowl?" Skywarp asked challengingly, "I say they took Ratchet. No medic, no reinforcements."

"You're both wrong," Scrapper scoffed at the seekers, "Wheeljack is their inventor and the most unpredictable mech on the battlefield. Clearly he is the one Reflector is bringing back as a trophy."

"You think they could catch Ironhide?" Bonecrusher asked curiously, "Maybe they found out his weakness and used it against him. After all, capturing the weapons specialist would be quite a haul. It's gotta be him."

"But Megatron said the most _important_ mech, not the most powerful," Skywarp reminded the Constructicon, "What would Optimus Prime consider to be the most important part of his team?"

"I think the better question is, what would _Reflector_ consider to be the most important part of their team?" Thundercracker chimed in.

The Decepticons stopped debating the question when the doors to the bridge opened up and the first Reflector triplet walked in. Megatron raised an optic ridge when he saw the little camera-former was merely holding one of the Autobots' human allies. Well, that was a disappointment.

"This is Prime's most valuable asset?" Megatron asked mockingly, "You're even stupider than I give you credit for!"

"No, my liege," Reflector replied humbly as he held out the human; Spike, "This is merely the bait we used to keep the Autobot in line. He wouldn't dare attempt to escape as long as the human is in our clutches. It was the only way to capture him, Lord Megatron."

At that moment three shadows appeared in the doorway. On either side were two smaller figures, the Reflectors, and in the middle bound by energy ropes was...

"Um, who is that?" Megatron asked as he squinted to try to place which Autobot he was looking at, "Is this a joke?"

"No, sir!" Viewfinder, standing to the right of the prisoner, replied proudly, "We have observed the Autobots on earth for two years now, and we have captured their most important teammate. Lord Megatron, we present as a gift to you, Trailbreaker."

For a few moments there was stunned silence in the control room, but then suddenly the other Decepticons broke out into fits of uproarious laughter. The Reflectors looked on in confusion, not really sure what was so funny. Even Trailbreaker and Spike looked a little befuddled.

" _That's_ your big score?" Scrapper asked in between bouts of laughter, "That guy? The force field guy? You've gotta be kidding!"

"Hey, do you have any idea how many times Trailbreaker has been the Autobots' secret weapon?" Viewfinder snapped defensively.

"Well, I think _secret weapon_ might be a bit of a stretch," Trailbreaker replied modestly, "I just do my job."

"You idiots!" Megatron yelled at the Reflector triplets, "You gave away your position and your observation post all for the sake of capturing one of Prime's ineffectual nobodies!? You three are getting more incompetent by the orn! Being on earth has made you soft. Well, you made this mess and now you have to deal with it!"

"W-What do you m-mean by that, Lord Megatron?" Viewfinder stammered nervously.

"I mean we're going to negotiate with Prime for the return of his lackey and his vermin, and until he comes to get them you three imbeciles have to guard them. Now move!"

" _Yes, Lord Megatron_!" All three Reflectors replied quickly as they rushed to retreat with their prizes.

Megatron snorted angrily and left the bridge, unwilling to deal with anymore nonsense. The other Decepticons waited until Megatron was gone, and then they started laughing about the situation all over again.

* * *

In the brig Trailbreaker sat despondently while Spike paced back and forth in their cell. The Reflectors were all stuck with guard duty, and while they normally could watch people doing nothing for hours, it wasn't nearly as much fun when their subject could watch them back. All five individuals were starting to get bored.

"Hey Trailbreaker, I'm getting hungry," Spike whispered to his fellow captive.

"I know, but there's no use asking the 'Cons," Trailbreaker told him, "They don't know the meaning of sympathy."

Meanwhile, at the guard post the Reflectors kept close watch on their prisoners, and Spike was starting to feel a little freaked out by their unwavering attention.

"Those guys are kind of creepy," Spike muttered under his breath, "It makes me wonder what they're thinking."

/Hey guys,/ Spectro called out to his brothers through their spark bond, /Is that cell secure? If Trailbreaker escapes we'll never hear the end of it./

/Sure we will, because he'll probably kill us,/ Spyglass remarked cynically, /Those fools we call teammates have no idea the service we did them. Trailbreaker killed off the first horde of Insecticon clones, protected the Autobots' ship from the sun, saved countless human villages, and has been the first line of defense for vorns even before we all got stuck here on this mudball of a planet. If our colleagues watched the Autobots as much as we do then they'd understand why we had to take Trailbreaker./

/Yeah, and the worst part is Megatron is going to give him back,/ Viewfinder added bitterly, /Sometimes I wonder why we bother. We hand them the biggest Autobot menace on earth on a silver platter, and they send him back because it wasn't what Megatron ordered./

/You just made us sound like waiters,/ Spectro chuckled, which caused jovial waves to be broadcasted throughout the bond, and suddenly the situation didn't seem so grim.

"Hey Decepticreeps!" Trailbreaker hollered, and the Reflectors walked over and scowled up at him for being so rude, "Hey, you got anything Spike can eat? We've been in here for hours."

" _You're still worried about that little brat_?" The Reflectors all asked in unison, " _He's the reason you're stuck in there_!"

"Just as I figured," Trailbreaker lamented, "You lousy 'Cons don't care about anything but yourselves. Just hang in there, Spike. I'll figure a way out of this."

/Oh scrap!/ Spectro exclaimed over the bond in a panic, /Guys! We can't let Trailbreaker escape, and if he thinks long enough he'll think of a way out! We have to do something!/

/Okay, don't panic,/ Viewfinder replied as calmly as he could manage, /If we feed the human he'll be complacent for a little longer. Think guys, think! What do humans eat?/

/Um...paint?/ Spectro guessed incorrectly.

/I heard they eat plants,/ Spyglass offered, /They call these plants _vegetables_. So, where can we find vegetables down here?/

/How about seaweed?/ Spectro suggested.

/Good. You two go get the seaweed and I'll stay here with the prisoners,/ Viewfinder ordered, /Oh, and bring a heat gun. Humans like their food cooked./

Spyglass and Spectro ran off to complete their task, which left Viewfinder alone with the Autobot and the human. He looked up at them with his typical intent stare for lack of anything better to do, and Spike felt creeped out all over again.

"So, where did your posse go?" Trailbreaker asked Viewfinder after a few moments of awkward silence.

"They left the ship, that's all you need to know," Viewfinder replied haughtily, "Don't worry Autobot, we won't torture you this time. Apparently Megatron feels negotiating with Optimus is a much better deal. Frankly though I don't think the negotiations will work. I know your kind well enough to know your leader will try to pull a fast one on us."

" _Hah_! That's rich!" Trailbreaker laughed mockingly, "You're the ones that doublecross us every time we try to negotiate peace, and you dare to say that _we're_ underhanded liars? That's a good one!"

"Yeah, it's so easy to sound righteous when your biggest problem is worrying about the lives of a bunch of organics!" Viewfinder sneered.

"Like you would care anything about human life," Trailbreaker growled, "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings!"

"Oh _please_! I know why you _really_ protect those skin bags!" Viewfinder shouted accusingly, "It's because they feed you! Their governments supply your people with all the energon you could ever need. You don't have to steal to survive like we do! You don't send any of your supply back, either! We at least send back energon to keep Cybertron running for another few orns. You Autobots don't even care!"

"Of course we care!" Trailbreaker shouted heatedly, "But we can't send anything back without Shockwave intercepting the shipment or you Decepticons blowing us into oblivion. There are still Autobots left on Cybertron that could use our help, but we can't even get to them! We don't even know how many are left. We protect the humans because they don't deserve to get caught up in our war. They've welcomed us and accepted us, and we're not about to betray their trust."

Viewfinder was tired of talking to Trailbreaker. He clearly believed in the Prime's propaganda, and Viewfinder got tired if he spoke out loud for too long. Besides, he didn't know how to defend a position he barely believed in himself.

Fifteen minutes later the Spectro and Spyglass returned with armfuls of dried out seaweed. Viewfinder quickly opened a small area of the energy shield, threw the seaweed at Spike's feet, and closed the opening again.

"What's this for?" Spike asked in confusion.

"It's your food, human," Viewfinder informed him, "Eat it."

Spike looked down at the warm gloppy green plant life, its roots exposed, and he turned almost as green as his dinner.

"Um, that's okay," Spike replied as he tried to avoid retching, "I'm not really hungry anymore."

"That wasn't a request," Viewfinder replied threateningly as he held up a laser pistol aimed at Spike's chest, "You wanted food, and we brought you food. _Eat it_."

Spike gulped more from revulsion than fear, and then looked down again at the stringy ocean plants. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Spike sat down cross legged and picked up a seaweed leaf. Gingerly, Spike bit off a small edge of one leaf and chewed so that the demanding Decepticon knew he was actually eating it. He swallowed hard and made a cringing face. Satisfied, Viewfinder put the gun back in his subspace and went back to the guard station with his brothers.

* * *

Another two hours passed. Spike ate a few more bites of the seaweed and saved the rest just in case their imprisonment lasted longer than he expected. The Reflectors continued their perpetual staring while Spike and Trailbreaker talked quietly among themselves. At one point Trailbreaker even picked Spike up and let the boy sit on his shoulder, something the Reflectors thought looked strange but kind of endearing. It was odd seeing the pair of prisoners get so comfortable in their cell, and it gave the triplets an interesting perspective into the black jeep-former.

"Hey Reflector," Trailbreaker called out, surprising the trio as they were close to dozing off.

"What do you want, Autobot?" Spyglass asked grouchily.

"You said Megatron was negotiating for our release," Trailbreaker reminded them, and they nodded, "Do you know what he's going to ask for?"

"Energon, obviously," Viewfinder replied in a no-duh kind of voice, "We're down so low that the smaller 'Cons like us and the cassettes have been cut off completely until we get more."

"Wait, so you guys haven't eaten?" Spike asked in concern, "In how long?"

"Three orns," Spectro replied sheepishly, "I guess in human time that would be between...42 to 45 days."

Spike gasped at that one. He had never seen any of the Autobots go such a long time without refueling. He didn't know how the Reflectors were still standing let alone functioning on such low fuel levels.

"Let me guess, the officers are still getting their rations?" Trailbreaker asked, and the Reflectors nodded, "Well then, maybe I can help you."

"You're already helping us," Viewfinder replied matter-of-factly, "With you as our hostage the Prime will have to give us energon. Even if he refuses, it'll still be easier to steal the stuff with you behind bars."

"Figuratively speaking of course since we don't use actual bars," Spectro added with a simple smile.

"I meant I could help you right now," Trailbreaker clarified, "Just unlock my subspace and I'll give you some energon I have on me."

"Nice try, force field boy," Viewfinder snorted, "If we did that then you would pull a weapon on us and escape. Just how dumb do you think we are?"

"Dumb enough to join the Decepticons," Trailbreaker remarked wryly, "That's not the point though. I have energon in my subspace, and I really will give it to you. I know times are tough, and even if you are on the wrong side you're still Cybertronians. Come on, just trust me. I promise I won't shoot or stab you, okay?"

Viewfinder pondered this proposal. Under normal circumstances he and his brothers would never trust an Autobot, especially one as resourceful as Trailbreaker, but they hadn't refueled in weeks and desperately needed energon. Viewfinder conferred with his brothers through the bond, and after a few minutes of deliberation came up with a solution.

"Alright Autobot, I'm gonna lift the energy field enough for Spectro to go through," Viewfinder explained warily, "If you try anything though, I'll shoot the human right through his fuel pump. Once Spectro is inside, I'm activating the energy barrier again. Give the energon to him, okay?"

"Fine," Trailbreaker replied casually; seemingly unconcerned with how fearful the Reflectors were of him.

The three Reflectors nodded to each other before the energy field was lowered enough for Spectro to quickly shuffle inside. The barrier was activated again with Spectro now trapped inside the cell with Trailbreaker and Spike.

"Alright, now what geniuses?" Trailbreaker asked in amusement.

"Give me some energon first," Spectro ordered, "When I'm done with the cube Spyglass will come in to drink some."

"Now that hardly seems efficient," Trailbreaker replied with a patronizing smile on his face plate, "Tell you what, I'll give you three cubes, and you can go back outside the cell with them. I promise, no weapons."

Spectro was skeptical that Trailbreaker meant what he said but was still hopeful that he might get the energon unscathed. Trailbreaker rooted around in his subspace until he found three full cubes and set them on the floor in front of Spectro. The stack of cubes was as tall as he was!

"Hey, this has a lot of glow around the edges," Spectro commented when he inspected the cubes, "Is this...high grade?"

"Yep. I make it myself," Trailbreaker told him cheerfully; happy to share his hobby with a listening audial receptor, "Sideswipe and I make it together sometimes and then distribute it to other Autobots that are in-the-know. We can't tell Prowl though because he hates it when Autobots drink high grade while on duty. Hey, it's like I always say, it's 45:00 somewhere."

Spectro smiled at the tantalizing cubes of pure liquid charge, but Spyglass was concerned.

/You know, if he makes that stuff himself it could be poisoned,/ Spyglass pointed out over the bond.

/That's silly,/ Spectro dismissed the argument, /He makes it for Autobots, and he wouldn't poison his own crew. You know how popular this guy is with outdoorsy Autobots like Hound and Beachcomber. He's not like us. They respect him, so he has no reason to turn on his own team./

/Are you insinuating that we do?/ Spyglass asked crossly.

/I know we wouldn't,/ Spectro quickly amended, /However...you have to admit that we would be justified if sometimes we only did our jobs halfway. Commander Starscream treats us like slag, and Megatron still can't tell us apart even though we've spent 6 million years as Decepticons. It's kind of depressing./

"Hey Reflector," Trailbreaker called out to the minibot, who was just standing there having a silent conversation with Spyglass, "You gonna exit the cell and have a drink with your fellow 'Cons?"

"Yeah, sure," Spectro replied distractedly, trying to keep his processor focused on the outside world, "Thanks for sharing with us, Autobot."

"Yeah, just for that, we'll get the kid some more seaweed," Viewfinder offered gratefully.

"Um, no! That's okay! A good deed is its own reward," Spike replied as quickly as possible so he wouldn't get stuck eating his weight in wild plant matter again.

Spectro managed to grab the cubes and exit the cell without Trailbreaker escaping. The Reflector triplets didn't understand why Trailbreaker wasn't making their lives miserable by running away, but then reasoned that he probably knew he was getting out unharmed anyway so there was no point in wasting energy.

* * *

Two hours and three empty cubes later the Reflectors were overcharged like nobody's business. The cubes were large enough for standard sized mechs, and the Reflectors were starved minibots, so it didn't take much volume to get them totally cratered. Spike was surprised however by how the trio acted when under the influence.

"Kodachrome! Gives us the nice bright colors!" Spectro sang in an off-key voice, "Brings us the greens of summer, and makes you feel the whole world's a sunny day! Oh yeah!"

"Ya know, Trailbaker," Spyglass slurred as he spoke to the Autobot, "Sometimes I'd just like to tell Megatron to kiss off. Right between the shifting plates!"

"Eh hehehe!" Viewfinder giggled for probably the fifth time in as many minutes as he sat slumped over on the floor, "Shifting plates! Hehehehehe!"

"Mama don't take my Kodachrome! Mama don't take my Kodachrome! Mama don't take my Kodachrome away-yay-yay!" Spectro continued singing undeterred despite the conversation happening around him.

"This is insane," Spike whispered to Trailbreaker, "What do we do if they get violent?"

"Same thing we do if Cliffjumper gets drunk," Trailbreaker replied.

"Call Ironhide? Somehow I don't think that'll work in here," Spike commented.

"Oh yeah," Trailbreaker simpered sheepishly, "I forgot."

"Oh land of the metal moons, how I miss the contour of your logical shapes!" Spyglass shouted at the ceiling with his hands held above his head in a dramatic claw-like fashion, "Oh, how the slums of Nuon glowed in the light of the twin metal moons! The gentle patter of the turbo rats' footsteps, the sight of loyal cyberhounds sleeping by their masters, and the taste of fresh Cybertronian energon! We were maniacs! We blew it all up! We have been condemned to the pits of inferno!"

"Oh, lighten up," Viewfinder replied with a drunken smile, "The ocean isn't so bad. At least the fish look cool, not to mention all the spying we've done on the Autobots over the years. I wish they'd get some femmes though. I mean, if we have to take pictures of these idiots in the wash racks I wish we could at least have something better to look at. I'm still scarred for life from seeing Seaspray's bare circuits!"

"You've taken pictures of us in the wash racks!?" Trailbreaker asked in horror.

"Oh, n-not all of you," Viewfinder slurred, his inebriation getting worse, "I mean, I'm not even sure Brawn bathes. I've never once seen h-him in there. If you wanna see what Tracks looks like in a shower cap though, I've got that picture s-somewhere in my hard drive."

"Not to mention the one of G-Gears t-talking to his loofa sponge," Spectro added, "That was almost in-incriminating, actually. He told it...he told it about...about how you guys planned on sabotaging our space bridge. Yeah, if he had said more, we-we'd have been able to have got you guys good."

" _Permanently_ ," Spyglass added ominously.

"Hehehehehe!" Viewfinder laughed again like an idiot.

Trailbreaker fumed over the information that Reflector was not only spying on them, but had absolutely no concept of the meaning of privacy. As he pondered this however Viewfinder suddenly passed out, and soon Spectro and Spyglass followed suit; leaving three unconscious Decepticons on the floor.

When Trailbreaker noticed they were out cold, he pulled a code picker out of his subspace and used it to turn off the energy field. Spike openly gaped as Trailbreaker pulled off this feat, and Trailbreaker upon noticing picked up Spike so he wouldn't have to try to keep up with the Autobot as he ran.

"How...how did you do that?" Spike stammered, "Wait, could you have done that at any moment?"

"Sure, but I wanted the Reflectors unconscious so they wouldn't shoot you," Trailbreaker replied with a sly grin, "Don't worry Spike, we'll be back at the Ark in no time at all."

...

The Reflectors awoke the next morning to see that their prisoners were gone. They collectively groaned both from their failure and from their shared hangover.

"Well, we tried to warn Megatron that mech was dangerous," Spyglass shrugged, "This is what happens when you cheap out on the security."

"On the bright side, now we know which Autobot's quarters to raid for more high grade," Spectro pointed out with a smirk.

Viewfinder smiled at realizing this as well. They had lost their prisoner and possibly were going to get in trouble with Megatron, but they also had a ticket to free booze. Overall, it wasn't such a bad orn after all.


	5. Hook

_Author's Notes: This chapter's guest star was suggested by **yveltadarkrai3**. I would like to thank her for being the first to suggest a Decepticon to be featured in this story instead of an Autobot. I actually started this chapter's storyline months ago, but before I finished I started work on a fic called "Hook's Appretince", which is actually fairly similar in tone. I guess you could say this chapter is the prototype for "Hook's Apprentice". Hopefully you guys likes this chapter, and if you have a suggestion for a character you'd like to see featured in this story let me know. Chapter 6 is taken, but there is plenty of room after that :)_

* * *

Chapter 5

Hook

"Hold still, slaggit!" Hook shouted at his current patient, Rumble, as he squirmed under the Constructicon medic's watchful gaze and surprisingly delicate servos.

It had been another hard fought battle, with the standard slew of injured Decepticons coming into the Constructicons' lab for repairs. Hook was the only one trained as a medic, so while his gestalt brothers handled a few of the patients most of the crew was willing to wait to be tended to by Hook.

"Stop pokin' me!" Rumble whined, "It ain't that bad, honest! It's just a severed arm. I get those all the time. Soundwave can fix it."

"Soundwave is currently getting his tape deck door repaired by Bonecrusher," Hook pointed out huffily, "So if you want to use your pile drivers again any time soon you will hold still and let me do my job!"

The Reflectors watched while Hook operated on Rumble's arm. They were waiting for Hook just like all of the other smart 'Cons. They had seen enough of this makeshift medbay to know that only a fool would go to the other Constructicons. Well, either a fool or someone who couldn't afford to waste time like Soundwave or Megatron. For everyone else though, it would be foolish to not wait for Hook.

/Rumble shouldn't complain,/ Spyglass said over the bond, /Hook is an excellent medic. If these slag heaps spent as much time watching the Autobots as we do they would appreciate Hook a lot more./

/No kidding!/ Spectro added enthusiastically, /That Ratchet is insane! I don't care how good he is, what kind of maniac throws things at an injured mech's helm? It's no wonder younglings like Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are afraid of him. Pit, we'd probably be offline right now if we had to go to Ratchet for repairs!/

/Not to mention Wheeljack,/ Spyglass added wryly, /Who decided Captain Kaboom was qualified to treat living beings, let alone their top soldiers?/

/Optimus Prime,/ Viewfinder answered for his brothers, /Yeah, we've got it pretty good here. We may only have one qualified medic, but at least he's a professional. No yelling, no wrenches to the face, no explosions, no personal questions, and no association outside of the medbay. Just cool collected efficiency and wounds properly treated. If you ask me, Hook is probably one of the most level-headed mechs we know./

/Oh! Rumble just left!/ Spectro announced happily, /Let's get over there and- Oh wait, never mind. Frenzy's already there./

The Reflectors sighed because they knew they would probably be treated last again, or next to last if Megatron decided to punish Starscream by making him go last. Either way the Reflectors would probably spill most of their energon on the floor by the time they got to see Hook. Spectro's shoulder strut was leaking from a wound he got from Ironhide ripping into him, Spyglass's helm was dented in so far that one of his optics broke, and Viewfinder's precious lense had been smashed by Brawn and he was leaking fluid out of his chassis. In short, they weren't critical yet, but they needed help as soon as possible.

* * *

The Constructicons had been working for 2 joors repairing those aft headed teammates of theirs. Scrapper wiped his servos off with a cleaning cloth and Hook took inventory of all the supplies they would need to restock and whether or not the parts would need to be obtained on earth or Cybertron.

"Hey guys!" Mixmaster called out from the doorway, "I think we for-for-forgot something!"

The others looked to where Mixmaster as pointing, and saw that the Reflector triplets had passed out from their injuries at the waiting area near the door.

"Not again!" Scrapper groused, "You mean we gotta reopen the medbay for those little grunts? I ain't doin' it."

Hook sighed heavily and said "Don't worry, boss. I'll do it."

Hook and Mixmaster took the three little minicons to a berth. They were small enough to all fit on the same berth if they used the one meant to accommodate a seeker's wingspan. Hook began to refill their energon lines while Mixmaster cleaned off the stains left behind by their old energon. Mixmaster left after he cleaned them, leaving Hook to weld fuel lines shut and remove glass from broken parts like Spyglass's optic and Viewfinder's lense. Hook sighed again. This was going to be a long night.

Frankly Hook felt like he saw these little fraggers more than any other patients he had, with the exception being maybe Starscream. Of course Starscream always had the same injuries because his assailant was always the same mech, but Reflector was by far Hook's most challenging set of patients. The injuries the little camera combiner could receive were quite creative. Sometimes they would have limbs torn away, sometimes their processors would be exposed, sometimes they would be covered in laser burns, and one time they came in with lime gelatin shoved into their fuel tanks through their neck cables. Apparently Skywarp thought that was funny.

Hook sighed again as he shaved away and polished some glass to make it the perfect shape for Viewfinder's new lense. Reflector was the smallest statured Decepticon team besides Soundwave's symbiotes. No one dared mess with Soundwave's creations because Megatron and Soundwave both favored them, but Reflector was fair game so they were frequently bullied by their own teammates.

Part of Hook, though he would never admit this out loud, actually cared about the little camera-formers. They were not only split-spark triplets, but also a gestalt. It was truly the rarest of gifts and the closest of bonds, and one Hook was in a unique position to understand. He was part of the gestalt that formed Devastator, after all.

He welded, worked, cut, patched, painted, and polished the little spies until they were all good as new, and then he forced them online.

"Uh...Did we pass out again?" Viewfinder asked aloud.

"Yes, you did," Hook replied coolly, "You have all been repaired back to your factory state, now get out of my medbay."

"Yes, sir!" All three minicons shouted respectfully before getting off the berth and forming a straight line out of the medbay.

Hook shook his helm at the trio as he watched them walk away. They were so disciplined and so willing to obey. How did Megatron not see the vital asset he had in Reflector? They gathered intel, kept secrets, and would even scrub the floors on the side. Hook never showed them preferential treatment and often snapped at them same as he did everyone else, but he saw how much of themselves they gave to the Decepticon cause and to Megatron himself. How was it that he seemed to be the only one who noticed?

* * *

The next day the Reflectors were walking down the hall on their way to the refueling room. It was nighttime above the ocean, and most of the other Decepticons were already in recharge. Reflector often chose this time to refuel because it meant they were less likely to meet up with another soldier that could accost them.

/You know what I just realized?/ Spectro asked over the bond, /Our work environment stinks./

/No _duh_ ,/ Spyglass replied unenthusiastically.

/No, I mean it's _really_ bad,/ Spectro continued undeterred, /Like, Starscream levels of bad. You know last week Brawl tried to rip off my helm?/

/Of course we remember. We were there,/ Viewfinder reminded him, /I had to hire Swindle to broker a deal to get us out alive. 200 credits. That's the real crime in this story./

/No kidding,/ Spyglass groused, /How are we supposed to earn more money when we're not even allowed to return to Cybertron? We'll go broke with those blasted Combaticons around./

/I guess they just think we're disposable,/ Spyglass surmised pessimistically, /No one cares about us except us. What do we have to do to make them care?/

/You don't want to know,/ Viewfinder remarked dryly.

Just as they were about to turn the corner to get into the refueling room, they saw that a large mech was stumbling out of the doorway. This meant someone had likely stayed behind to get overcharged on high grade, which also meant they should have hid somewhere and scoped out the scene first. This could only end badly.

The drunk mech, Astrotrain, bent down to regard the camera-formers with an evil glint to his red optics. The trio knew Astrotrain could be unpredictable. Yep, this was bad. This was a disaster.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't *hic* Refrectrol," Astrotrain slurred, "You want some energon, little guys? I got plenty."

"Really?" Spectro asked hopefully, "That's awfully nice of you. Normally- _Eep_!"

Astrotrain then lifted up Spectro by his helm, and his brothers started futilely kicking the triple changer's feet to try to get him to let their brother go. Astrotrain paid them no mind as he walked over to the energon dispenser and shoved Spectro's face against the nozzle. He then turned it on at full blast; forcing the purple fuel against Spectro's face and down his intakes!

" _Hey! Let him go!_ " The other two Reflectors shouted in unison, " _We'll tell Megatron! Let him go right now or else!_ "

Of course they knew Megatron wouldn't care what happened to them, but Astrotrain was pretty cratered, so they hoped the lush would buy their bluff.

Astrotrain turned off the dispenser and Spectro coughed to get the liquid out of his air intakes. Astrotrain, still holding Spectro, then turned to the other members of Reflector and sneered at them.

"So, you caramera formers like to *hic* tattle, do you?" Astrotrain growled as he tightened his grip on Spectro's helm, "Well then, here's one for your photo album!"

Astrotrain then threw Spectro down as hard as he could; breaking a spinal strut, and stomped his pede on the minocon's chassis as hard as he could! Viewfinder and Spyglass screamed, and they tried to grab Spectro, but Astrotrain just wouldn't stop his assault.

* * *

Hook, meanwhile, was walking toward the refueling room after a late night of working on Starscream's wings (again). He was so tired and all he wanted was a nice warm cube of energon and a good night's recharge. He knew he wouldn't get to sleep long due to the constant demand of his compatriots, but at least he would get a few hours of peace.

As Hook approached the refueling room he heard a loud scream, and then heard what sounded like a struggle. Thinking quickly, he whipped his medical kit out of his subspace and ran to where the commotion was taking place.

When Hook got to the room, he saw that Astrotrain was trying to flatten one of the Reflector triplets with his pede while the other two were shooting at him with laser pistols that had no effect on his thick metallic hide. Astrotrain was laughing and wobbling in place; a sure sign he was overcharged. That drunken lout was about to kill a Reflector right in front of Hook, and the Constructicon medic couldn't stand for that.

"What the slag is _going on_!?" Hook demanded to know; outraged.

"Huh?" Astrotrain asked incoherently, "Whozzat? Hook? Heeey, Doctor Feelgood!"

"Not today..." Hook ground out through gritted denta.

Hook then opened his toolkit and pulled out a hammer he used for checking reflexes. He then proceeded to beat Astrotrain's helm with it! Reflector could only watch in horror as the normally composed medic pounded the living scrap out of their assailant! Astrotrain shrieked and made noises of pain one would normally associate with a cartoon before finally being able to run away from Hook's wrath. Hook huffed in grim satisfaction and then casually put his hammer back into his tool kit.

When Hook turned to check on the Reflector triplets the two conscious ones cowered in fear around their injured comrade. They were shaking, though Hook couldn't exactly blame them after what just happened. Not to mention, they had never seen him attack another 'Con like that before.

" _Please don't hurt us!_ " Both Reflectors shouted, " _We didn't start it! Honest! We were just-!_ "

"Save it," Hook replied irritably, "Now back away so I can get to the patient."

The gestalt brothers did as they were told and allowed Hook to approach Spectro. Normally they would never allow another mech, especially their coworkers, to get near an injured member of their gestalt. For whatever reason however, they trusted Hook with their very lives. He had a credibility and integrity that was very rare among the Decepticon ranks.

Hook looked down at the poor Reflector and noticed just how bad the damage truly was. His frame had been crushed like a soda can, his optics were shattered, and his spark was being constricted by the bent and twisted metal. Hook would have to work all night and into the next day to repair the poor minicon. Well, so much for that warm energon and nap.

* * *

Three days later Hook was tending to Laserbeak in his medbay as usual. Spectro had been discharged the day before and everything seemed to be quiet for once. Hook got so tired of trying to keep Reflector patched together, and he was so angry that night when he caught Astrotrain bullying them again. After working on them so many times Hook knew more about Reflector than their own creators would have, but he wished he didn't. He wished his unit would just show some professionalism for once in their fragging lives.

Hook closed up Laserbeak's back and handed the bird back off to Soundwave, who did not thank Hook as usual. No matter, at least his medbay was clear again. Maybe he could finally get some time to relax.

"Hey, Hook!" Mixmaster called out from outside the door, "Y-Y-You got a pa-pa-package!"

"Pardon?" Hook asked as he turned to his gestalt brother.

Well, so much for relaxation. Mixmaster was holding a large cardboard box that had a card taped to the top addressed to Hook. No one ever gave the Constructicons anything other than supplies, but the card on top was sparkly and painted green and purple. It was obviously a gift, but he didn't know who would give him anything or why.

Mixmaster stayed to watch as Hook opened the box. It was full of wires, microchips, fuses, and a couple motors. These were supplies from earth, but they were all things that could be retrofitted to repair a Cybertronian. _Of course_ , the one time Hook gets a gift and it's still medical supplies. Figures.

"Who g-gave it to you?" Mixmaster asked curiously.

Hook flipped open the card and read it aloud just to humor Mixmaster, but the truth was he didn't really care. He still had a lot of work to do that day.

"To: Hook. From: Reflector. To the greatest medic in the universe. We know you waste a lot of time and equipment on us, so we stole these things from the humans to make up for a tiny fraction of what you have done for us."

Hook put the card in his subspace and started putting away the various odds and ends from the box. Mixmaster wanted to talk about it more, but Hook didn't want to discuss it, so he just pretended like it didn't happen. Hook never got gifts, so he didn't know how to react. He had a feeling Reflector wouldn't know how to react either.


End file.
